Thursday, December 26, 2013

1. It is actually possible that The Hollies were staying at the same hotel as Mel Brooks, who was filming The Twelve Chairs in Yugoslavia at approximately the same time.

2. The Hollies probably had nothing to do after the show because Tito had the car.

3. This performance, although musically impeccable, is really kind of embarrassing. I mean, I had no idea that The Hollies were so totally a cabaret act at this point. No wonder Graham Nash was so hot to jump ship to Crosby Stills and Nash.

Monday, December 23, 2013

In case you missed my post a week or two ago -- about the WSJ 70th birthday interview with Keith Richards -- here's an mp3 of the song that's the big revelation in the article: The original version of The Stones "Street Fighting Man."

With totally different non-political lyrics and some interesting differences in the mix (that's Dave Mason on that weird Indian oboe you can hear if you listen hard enough.)

It's still great, and I'm sure it would have sounded equally good on Beggar's Banquet as the more familiar version, but obviously Mick and Keith and the gang were absolutely right to revise it. Incidentally, according to Keith, he came up with the line "What can a poor boy do?" and Mick took that and ran with it.

Friday, December 13, 2013

[Still too woefully busy and over-extended to do any lengthy new writing for a while -- sorry, RXH -- but in the meantime given the recent anniversary of the horror at Newtown, I thought it would be relevant to re-up this posting from 2010. It's been slightly edited for content and there's a new selection in there as well. -- S.S.]

BEST OR WORST POST-BEATLES POP/ROCK/SOUL SONG OR RECORD THAT REFERENCES FIREARMS IN EITHER THE TITLE OR THE LYRIC!!!

Self-explanatory, so no arbitrary rules, but by firearms I mean the obvious, i.e. handguns, rifles, etc. In other words, if you try to sneak in something like Bruce Cockburns' otherwise quite splendid "If I Had a Rocket Launcher" I'll make merciless fun of you.

And my totally top of my head Top Nine is:

9. Terry Reid -- Bang Bang

Written by Sonny fricking Bono, and covered here to within an inch of its "my baby shot me down" life. Reid, of course, is the man who passed on Robert Plant's gig in Led Zeppelin, thus altering history in unfathomable ways. A certain Shady Dame and I were privileged to see Reid in a tiny club a few months ago, BTW, and it was in a word transplendent.

8. The Connells -- Get a Gun

From 1990 and a long-time fave of mine. Utterly gorgeous on every level, I think, but to this day I haven't the slightest idea what it's about. These guys are apparently still a going concern, however, and if I ever run into them maybe I'll ask.

7. Warren Zevon -- Jeannie Needs a Shooter

Thought I was gonna say "Lawyers, Guns and Money," didn't you?

6. Mission of Burma -- That's When I Reach for My Revolver

Yeah, it's a great song. Still, and I forgot who said it, but there comes a time in everybody's life when they look at their CD collection and realize that those three Mission of Burma albums are basically just taking up space.

5. Hackamore Brick -- Zip Gun Woman

From the 1971 cult album. These guys are supposed to be some kind of proto-something -- punk, powerpop, I don't know what -- and people I know whose opinions I respect actually like the record. All I know is, I pull it out once every year or two to see if it makes sense to me yet, and it never does.

4. Webb Wilder -- The Devil's Right Hand

Written by Steve Earle, natch, and still the best anti-gun song ever. From Wilder's brilliant 1986 debut album, and recorded live obviously.

3. Bruce Springsteen -- Held Up Without a Gun

The Boss Goes Punk, and (at a breathless 1:22 seconds) just a total pleasure. This is the studio version from The River sessions, which has never been on legit CD to my knowledge.

And the Numero Uno ode to the joys of blowing stuff up real good simply has to be...

1. The Guess Who -- Guns, Guns, Guns

This is one of the Guess Who tracks I usually pull out when people make fun of my obsession with the band. I'd actually forgotten it was a single; I mostly think of it as one of the best cuts from Rockin', the 1972 LP that's not only their masterpiece but one of the most unjustly overlooked albums of its decade. The song itself is sui generis; slash-and-burn guitars, a chorus for the ages, and a lyric -- at a historical moment when corporate greedheads are trying to convince us that fracking is good for you and the NRA and their Supreme Court enablers won't rest until every American can walk into a bar carrying a Stinger missile -- that's obviously depressingly prescient.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Okay, he's not Otis Spann, but what the hey -- he's pretty funky for a pachyderm.

Ladies and gentlemen -- please enjoy Peter the Elephant.

I'm reminded of a great New Yorker cartoon from a few years ago; a bunch of bears are walking out of a movie theater that's showing a film called The Salmon, and one of the bears says "Gee, I didn't realize they had feelings too."

Wednesday, December 04, 2013

In case you haven't been playing the home game, Lefsetz has been an annoying philistine know-it-all for several eons now; he formerly peddled his wares via a subscriber-supported website (who paid to read the stuff is something I do not even want to imagine) but of late his oeuvre has been available on the intertubes, for free, to anybody with a modem and no fear of having their IQ lowered by exposure to it.

I bring all this up because last Friday the proprietor of this here blog commented on Facebook about Lefsetz' latest series of annoying declarative sentences posing as a think piece, calling it -- and I paraphrase but only slightly -- "possibly his most assholish post ever." When the proffered link to the piece didn't work, I asked her what it was about, and she replied -- and again I paraphrase but even less slightly -- "talent doesn't matter and everybody should be like Rihanna."

In any event, I read the thing eventually -- you can find it here if you're strong of stomach -- and as it turned out I concurred: It really WAS his most assholish post ever.

Now, to be fair, the larger point (if that phrase is actually applicable) he was trying to make -- that the record companies are in business to make money, that their idea of quality is simply what they believe will sell, and that artistic content is consequently irrelevant to their business plan -- is inarguable.

On the other hand, if you read the whole piece, it's quite clear that Lefsetz actually approves of this state of affairs. And it occurred to me that some guy whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels had said something similar, in the pages of The Magazine Formerly Known as STEREO REVIEW somewhat earlier...

Anyway, that's all an extremely roundabout way of getting to my real worry, which is, simply put, that because the vast sums of money to be made in the record business today have raised the corporate stakes so precipitously that no future performer who is not on some level a clone of an already established star is ever going to get a chance in front of the public again.

...by which I mean in June of 1990.

In other words, Bob -- no shit, Sherlock. How long did you ponder before coming up with that bit of blinding insight?

Oh and Bob -- congrats are in order for your win; that is some truly memorable wanking and I'm proud to bring it a wider audience. Heh.

Although I must admit that my pal Dave Lifton over at Pop Dose does a much funnier number on you than I ever could. Seriously, I'm not worthy.

-- the superb newly re-mastered and redesigned CD by The Floor Models (featuring a bass player whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels) can be ordered over at the website of ZERO HOUR RECORDS over HERE.

To paraphrase the old Mad magazine: $9.95, cheap.

Needless to say, they make lovely Christmas presents.

And because I love you all more than food, here's a bonus track that didn't make the cut but which I'm inordinately fond of anyway. (I posted it here a while back, but in case you missed it..)

The song is "Fade Into Grey," a different studio take of which appears on our album. This version was recorded semi-live at WBAI-FM circa 1983; ace 12-string player Andy Pasternack edited out a dramatic, sort of Police-like middle section that worked better on stage and replaced it with sitar samples from The Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows," thus giving the tune a delightfully cheesy faux psychedelic feel.

As I said, I'm inordinately fond of this one, albeit now with a layer of bittersweet; Andy e-mailed me the MP3 of this in May, which was the last time I heard from him before his unexpected and tragic death in September.

In any case, go buy a copy of the CD in his honor. How's THAT for crass commercialism?